Odin's Son
by willshakespeare-immortalbard
Summary: The story of Thor and Loki's brotherhood, told in little stories about them. All in chronological order, though there are some flashbacks to scenes from earlier times. Please read/review! *Now complete.*
1. Brother

**A/N—Okay, I saw **_**Thor**_** a few days ago and...jumped on the bandwagon. So please be kind to me: it's my literal first forage into this fandom in terms of writing. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Thor**_**. None of it. None at all. Which is a shame, as that was some exceptional filming/acting. **

**Summary: Thor and Loki's tale of brotherhood—from start to finish.**

**Note on ages: I delved a little bit into some fanfics, and it seems that the most popular age difference is two years. So I'm going to use that one. **

**P.S. I used Wikipedia...I needed some help. So all info comes from there, and from my crazy little mind.**

**On with the story! Please read/review!**

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><p><strong>Odin's Son<strong>

"Thor."

Mother's voice was soft as she crept up behind him. He felt her start to pry the miniature hammer from his hands, and he held on to it with all the strength that his chubby two-year-old hands would allow.

"Mother!" he whined in protestation, clinging all the tighter to the toy. "I _want_ it!"

"Later," she whispered, finally peeling his fingers from the handle and easing the hammer from his grasp. "Right now you need to be done playing."

"Why?" Thor pouted, resisting Mother's attempts to pull him to his feet. He dug his little heels into the ground and insisted on sitting back on the floor. "I don't want to be done. I want to play."

"You need to be done, and come to Father." She persisted in pulling, and finally Thor submitted, scrambling to his feet and following her, though he succeeded in snatching up the hammer as he was led from the room.

He slowed as they neared the Throne room, and cried out, "Mother, Father's in there!" as they passed the closed door without even faltering in the rather quick pace Mother had set.

"He's in the nursery," was all she said.

Thor hated that. It meant that he was _really_ in trouble. Which didn't even make sense, as he hadn't done anything wrong.

He hadn't mussed up the bed after the maids had fixed it. He hadn't started a food fight with Volstagg. He hadn't pulled Sif's hair—which had been a sore temptation that morning. He hadn't pitched a temper tantrum, and he hadn't wandered off. He'd actually been pretty good. Everyone had told him so. So why was he in trouble?

"I didn't do anything," he instantly told her, starting to drag his feet again.

"I know."

"So I'm not in trouble?" he asked happily.

"No. We have a surprise for you."

Thor grinned. He loved presents, and the fact that this one wasn't even a birthday present made it all the more fun. He quieted, trying to think about what it could be.

A cloak? Another toy?

_A baby doll?_

Because that was what Father was holding? A baby doll.

Thor's nose wrinkled, and he moaned, "A doll? I don't want a doll. They're for _girls_. Not even Sif has a doll—"

Father stooped, and placed the doll in Thor's little arms, still holding it up like it was something fragile, something living, something precious that could be broken with a single wrong move.

Green eyes opened and looked up at him, and the doll—the _baby_—shifted beneath Thor's fingers, struggling faintly against its wrappings. The baby's thin black hair ruffled softly from Thor and Father's mingled breath.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Thor asked, and his young voice unconsciously mimed the excited tones of the villagers that he'd overheard asking the question to young mothers and fathers.

"A boy," Mother told him. She was smiling now, and Thor couldn't even really be angry that she'd deceived him into thinking that she had a new toy for him.

He looked back down at the baby, who seemed to be almost smiling.

"Can I name him?" he asked eagerly. His parents laughed.

"Yes," Father said. "That's why we brought you here. You ought to be able to at least help name your brother."

Something in Thor's young mind whispered, _Mother didn't look like the other women when they were going to have babies_, but he quickly forgot it as he returned his attention to his younger brother.

The baby's green eyes sparkled, and it may just have been the light, but somehow Thor didn't think so. It reminded him of how Valstaff and Fandral and Hogun and Sif's eyes would all look when he proposed a naughty game that would cause lots of trouble. Mischief, everyone called it—especially the nurse. _Loki_, she scoffed as she delivered punishment.

"Loki?" he asked, looking upward at his parents. The baby in his arms shifted again, and cooed.

His parents smiled at each other.

"Loki," Mother whispered, taking the baby from Thor and Father's combined grasp. She held the child close and whispered "Loki..." and her voice trailed away. The last word ended in _son_, but Thor couldn't make it out.

"Loki Odin-son," Father said happily, and the baby cooed again. Thor held out his arms, and Mother helped him to hold Loki.

"Loki Thor's-brother!" Thor proclaimed, and Father laughed.

"You two will be the best of friends, and the best of brothers," he assured his first-born, and Thor nodded, determined to live up to that.

Loki cooed once more, and suddenly raised a hand and swatted Thor's nose lightly, little fingers trying to grab onto Thor's face.

Thor knew then that it was mischief glittering in Loki's eyes. And he hugged Loki close, slipping the handle of the hammer into Loki's little hand.

"Just wait till Mother gets you a rattle," he said. "No one expects a rattle-attack. They're the best."


	2. Happy Birthday

**A/N—Many thanks to all who have reviewed this! It means so much to me to have such positive reviews****. I dedicate this chapter to you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Thor**_**. None of it. None at all. Which is a shame, as that was some exceptional filming/acting. **

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><p>"Happy Birthday, Loki!" Thor crowed as he ran into the room, his makeshift present wrapped up all nice and neat, courtesy of Sif.<p>

The little, green-eyed child, now one year old, looked up at the sound of his name. A smile broke out on seeing his beloved elder brother, and Loki, his little mini-cape (a gift from Thor for his six-month birthday) getting caught underneath his feet.

"Tor!" Loki called out happily, half toddling, half tripping across the floor, little stocking feet pushing aside the scattered toys and discarded entertainments. He held out his hands, which for some reason lacked the childish chubbiness that three-year-old Thor's still retained.

Thor dropped the present onto a couch and rushed to meet his little brother, lifting Loki a few inches off the ground and depositing the little child on his shoes. He walked around the room, holding Loki's hands and chanting encouragement as Loki happily cried, "Walk! Walk!"

Mother and Father clapped enthusiastically, cheering Loki on as if he was in a race. Thor walked faster and started commentating.

"He gets closer...he's gaining on the hammer—"

Loki put his tongue out at the abandoned toy hammer as they passed it.

"—he passes it; he's nearing the finish line—"

The crumpled, vibrant green blanket that Loki loved so dearly, stretched out by Father was they bridged the gap, became the finish line.

"Closer—closer—closer—"

Loki squealed with joy as Thor hopped over the blanket. "Flying!" he cried, and Father scooped him up, spinning him around.

"Flying is right!"

Thor returned to the couch and retrieved his present for Loki, handing it to his brother, who, with child-like enthusiasm, plopped down on the ground and proceeded to tear at the wrapping. He placed each scrap on himself as he did so, trying to make it stick. Whenever Mother went to remove one of the pieces, Loki protested with what few words he did know, and returned to his unwrapping.

His brilliant smile, already full of white little baby teeth, made Thor's heart swell, and all the hard work he'd gone through to get the present was instantly worth it.

"Look!" Loki shrieked, holding the mini-helmet aloft. He rushed to Mother, proffering the helmet to her, his green eyes pleading. "On! On! On!"

As soon as the helmet was strapped on, Loki barreled into Thor.

"Tank you, Tor!" he said, looking up at Thor with admiring eyes.

Thor hugged his little brother close.

"You're welcome, Loki. Now you're a real warrior."

The little boy hurried to collect his hammer, which he brandished, giving a childish war cry. Then he sat back down on the floor and smiled up at Thor happily.

"Love you," he said simply.

Thor looked joyfully at his parents.

"He said he loved me!"

"Love you!" Loki repeated, looking at Thor hopefully.

Thor realized what his little brother wanted.

He slipped his finger into Loki's hand.

"Love you too."


	3. Frost and Ice

**A/N—I don't own any of this. It all belongs to Marvel. **

**Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story, or who have favorited/followed me. I never expected this story to get _any_ reads, at all, I just put it up on a whim. To have gotten such kind reviews really means a lot to me. So thank you all! Once again, this chapter's for you guys!**

**Oh, also, this is where the T rating sort of comes in. Just a warning. If you guys think that T's too high a rating for this story, please let me know and I'll change it to K+. I just want to be on the safe side. I can be rather a descriptive writer, and even if I change it to K+, it'll probably return to T later on. Thanks!**

**Please read/review!**

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><p>Thor clutched his hammer tightly, even though he knew that the little toy would be useless. It made him feel like Father: brave, strong, worth it. And he needed to feel that way, as Mother pushed him down the hall, holding Loki in her arms.<p>

"Mother—"

"Shush, Thor!" she snapped, shifting Loki quickly to her hip in order to clamp a hand over Thor's mouth. "Don't say anything, honey."

Loki looked down at Thor with wide green eyes that, surprisingly, weren't frightened. When Mother had rushed into the nursery, shoving furniture and toys aside in her haste to reach her children, Thor had waited for Loki to cry, but the little boy had let Mother scoop him up, his only protestation his demand for "helmet". Thor had snatched up Loki's helmet as they hurried out of the nursery, not letting go of his own beloved hammer.

A burst of cold air sent the large double doors of the Throne room swinging open, and ice sparkled on the tiles. Loki laughed, a high, childish giggle, and stretched out his pale hands for the shiny ice.

"Shush," Mother murmured, tightening her grip on Loki as he bent over, trying to reach the floor.

Thor winced, shying away from the ice, even though he knew it was the Frost Giants, and not the ice, that harmed, captured, destroyed, killed—

Up ahead, the doors to the Dining hall banged apart, and a horde of Frost Giants entered. Blood was smeared over their blue skin, staining their weapons and their hands. Their red eyes glittered in the dark hall, and were reflected in the shimmering ice that coated the floor and walls. They were surrounded by winking red eyes, flashing in and out of focus all around them. Thor hefted his toy hammer, though he was shaking. Mother screamed. Only Loki was fearless, struggling to free himself from Mother's grasp, shouting out something in toddler-language—a word Thor hadn't heard before—

The Frost Giants reacted to Loki's high voice, turning their eyes on him alone. The toddler (not even two yet) looked at them, unafraid, green eyes sparkling. Another cold blast of air washed over them, fetid with the smell of the Frost Giants, and Loki's pale skin seemed to turn blue, while his vibrant eyes, for just an instant, appeared red. It was gone, over, in a flash, and the unnerving image, the nagging whisper, was shoved aside as Father charged into the hall.

Mother didn't wait to see what Father did. She wheeled around, turning back towards the nursery, stumbling and slipping on the icy floors, still holding Thor's hand in a vice-like grip. Loki squealed as they suddenly fell, landing on the icy tiles, careening down the hall like they were on some sort of ride. Thor and Mother clung to each other, too frightened to scream. Thor's hammer fell from his hand as he wrapped both hands around Mother's arm.

_Fallen warriors of both races, soaked in blood—so mutilated that the only way to tell them apart was by the color of the blood—Asgardians, covered in red liquid—Frost Giants, coated in blue goo—_

The images were nightmarish, fleeting as they were, and Thor winced as they slid down the hall, passing doors faster than was safe. He felt the ice scraping his skin, saw Mother's gown stained with red, heard Loki giggling, smelled the crisp, wintery smell of the ice, tasted the metallic blood in his mouth as they slammed into the wall—

"Up!" Mother gasped, pulling him to his feet, collecting Loki from where he was sitting on the floor, clutching tiny stalagmites, one in each hand. His fingers were blue, and tiny red dots flashed in his green eyes.

Thor had never run so fast in all his three-and-a-half years of life. Mother was relentless, dragging him onwards, constantly switching directions as she tried to avoid the Frost Giants, the more dangerous battles. When they finally, by some roundabout route, reached the cellar, Mother pushed them in, following them, setting Loki down as she bolted the door.

Loki spun in circles, laughing happily, looking at Thor as if asking why he wasn't joining in.

Thor sank onto the ground, tired and frightened, and watched the blue slowly fade from Loki's fingers.


	4. Yup!

**A/N—I don't own this. Marvel owns everything.**

**Also, something about this seems familiar. It might just be that it's so cliched. If someone could let me know if they've run across this "Thor and Loki sitting in the Yggdrasil" idea, could you tell me please? Thanks!**

**For all my reviewers!**

**Please read/review!**

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><p>"Happy Birtday."<p>

A little something crawled into bed with him, rubbing icy cold toes against his leg.

Ever since the unexpected attack of the Frost Giants six months ago (no one really knew what had happened, except that celebrations for Valstaff's fifth birthday had been interrupted and havoc wreaked) Thor had suffered from a fear of anything cold. To have something so chilly in his _bed_—

A bubbly giggle cleared his mind, and he relaxed, shoving aside the urge to leap from his bed.

"Loki..."

"Happy Birtday!" Loki cried, shoving a messily wrapped package into Thor's hands. Thor felt the soft fabric of Loki's dearly beloved blanket against his fingers. Peeling it off, he saw a piece of paper.

Two stick figures stood atop of a scraggly...scraggly...Thor decided it didn't really matter.

But Loki sensed his confusion and pointed to the strange mess of lines.

"Yggy tree. You,"—he moved his finger to the taller figure—"and me,"—the smaller figure—"on the tree."

And then it made sense.

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><p>"<em>We're pretty high, aren't we, baby?" Thor asked, falling momentarily into the habit of referring to Loki as "baby" or "honey" that the nurse had instilled into him. <em>

_The rainbow bridge shimmered far beneath them, and, blurred through the bridge, the vortex of stars that masked Midgard from view. _

"_Yup!" Loki chirped, swinging his feet. Three now, Loki had grown immensely, and no longer used baby talk so much, though he still couldn't form the "th" sound, morphing words like "Thor" and "birthday" and "tooth". But other than that, he spoke a lot like Thor did, even imitating Thor's tone of voice—something that got him into trouble when he adopted Thor's I-don't-have-listen-to-you voice around nurse._

_They really shouldn't be up in the Yggdrasil, Thor knew, but ever since Fandral had shown Thor how to climb it, he'd wanted to show Loki. _

_Loki loved being high in the air. Thor remembered the first time he'd put Loki on a swing. When his "underdog" had gained Loki more height than intended, the little boy had screamed for pure delight. So of course he loved being at the tip-top of the Yggdrasil. And Thor enjoyed it too, sitting there with Loki on his lap, talking about "boy stuff"—how to prank nurse, or worry Mother, or how best to persuade Valstaff to play the Frost Giant._

"_You like it?" Thor asked._

"_I love it."_

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><p>Thor fingered the picture.<p>

"You draw this, Loki?" he asked.

"Yup!"

"It's great! I love it." Thor embraced his little brother, and Loki took advantage of the hug to crawl onto Thor's lap, plopping his little legs onto Thor's. They sat there like that for a long time, Thor's picture in between their legs.

"Happy Birthday, Thor!" Father roared as he and Mother entered the room. Loki scrambled off Thor's lap and let Father toss Thor into the air.

"Do it again!" he cheered, reveling in the happiness that radiated off his parents and elder brother. Father did, and then did the same to Loki, who gave a "wheeeee" of pleasure.

Mother picked up the picture that Loki had drawn.

"I see that Loki got here first."

"Yup!" Thor and Loki chorused.

"Do you love your brother, Loki?" Father asked, tickling his youngest boy.

Loki surged to his feet and hugged Thor.

"Yup!"


	5. Not Fair

**A/N—****Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Thor**_**. None of it. None at all. Which is a shame, as that was some exceptional filming/acting. **

**Many thanks to all my reviewers.**

**Also, PearlMaiden called some growing inconsistencies with language to my attention. Thanks so much, PearlMaiden. I've tried to amend them in this chaper!**

**I'm not so happy with this one, but hopefully you all like it. :)**

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><p>Thor ran through the halls, ducking swiftly into every nook and cranny. He shoved open doors, popping his head into the rooms beyond.<p>

"Loki?"

He knew that it wouldn't really work. Loki was a clever five-year-old. The call-their-name-makes-them-giggle trick hadn't worked on him since he was two.

But it was worth a shot, and it had one result—he found Sif.

"You haven't found him yet?" The dark haired girl slipped out from behind a tapestry. He dark eyes were worried as she looked around for Loki.

"No, but I'm not worried," Thor laughed. "I found you!"

Sif's eyes widened, and she cursed, stamping her foot.

"Not my fault you forgot you were hiding," Thor told her, and continued searching.

"Thor? Are you coming?" Loki's young voice echoed through the hall, and Thor spun just in time to see a green cloak flutter from a corner. He raced down the corridor, and crowed "Found you!" as he rounded the corner.

"Ah, bummer," Hogun cried, crawling out from behind an urn. "You got me."

Thor didn't object, though he didn't stay either, leaving Hogun to find Sif if he felt so inclined.

"Meanie," he muttered, and then called out, "Loki, that's not fair! Using magic...that's cheating."

"No it's not!" Loki piped up, though his voice was drowned out by Valstaff's angered cry of,

"NO FAIR!" The stout boy emerged from his hiding place grumbling. He and Thor exchanged looks of irritation.

"I'm actually not sure it it's against the rules or not," Valstaff confessed. "We never said it wasn't."

A giggle verified the loophole they had left in the rules of the game, and Thor sped onwards, determined to find Loki.

"I got bored," Fandral yelled in answers to Thor's questioning glance as he rushed by. Fandral was lying in the hallway, legs stretched out as far as they could reach—a trap for unsuspecting adults that Thor had made up a few days before.

Just Loki left. Just Loki left. Little trickster.

Another giggle, and Thor knew he had him this time. It was realer, more solid, than the other one had been.

Sliding into the Throne room, almost tripping over the rug, Thor found him.

Sitting on Father's throne, while Father and Mother stood on either side, smiling.

"You found me!" Loki cried joyfully, stretching out his hands to Thor in the little child gesture that he hadn't yet learned to abandon.

Thor sighed and sank onto Mother's seat, reaching out to ruffle Loki's thin black hair.

"Yes, you did, brother. Good job."

Loki grinned, the mischief turning his green eyes red for just an instant.


	6. Please Come Home

**A/N—****Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Thor**_**. None of it. None at all. Which is a shame, as that was some exceptional filming/acting. **

**One thing: I upped their ages here. 8 years have passed since the last chapter, just so you all know. I've put a note on the top of the chapter, but I just wanted you to see this here too. **

**Now, I'm not really sure if I like this chapter or not. But again, hopefully you guys will. **

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><p><strong>8 years later:<strong>

Thor looked at the hammer in his hand. Not a toy this time. Not a toy. _Real_.

"Is it heavy?" Loki asked, leaning over.

Without a word, Thor dropped the hammer into his brother's hand and watched as Loki doubled almost in half, clinging to the weapon with both hands.

At fourteen, Loki was still the smaller of the brothers. Fairly tall, but slim, lacking Thor's muscle, he looked almost vulnerable.

The hammer clattered to the floor as Loki gave up, and released the handle. He danced aside, narrowly avoiding getting his foot crushed by the weapon, and smiled at Thor.

"It is."

Thor nodded, laughing. "Yes, it is, brother."

Loki dragged the hammer towards Thor and motioned for him to pick it up.

"Father won't want to see it on the ground." Loki's green eyes sobered as he mentioned Father.

An unexpected battle with the Frost Giants had arisen, and Thor, now sixteen, was considered old enough to accompany them into battle.

"You'll come home, right?" Loki asked, no longer laughing, but miserable. Thor's heart went out to his little brother, who had suffered from nightmares since Thor's involvement had been announced.

"Of course I will."

Loki lowered himself to the ground and pulled his knees up to his chin. Tears glimmered in his eyes, and he trembled as he tried to hold back his sobs.

"Promise?" His voice was thick.

Thor sat down by his brother and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I do. I promise. In fact...Loki, do you remember how we used to sit in the Yggdrasil?"

Loki nodded, smiling a little at the remembrance of their special place.

"I promise that the first place I come when I return will be to the Yggdrasil. Do you promise to be there?"

"I promise."

"Good."

Soldier crowded out onto the rainbow bridge, and Odin approached his sons.

"Thor."

Thor rose and collected his hammer while Loki embraced Father. Thor clapped his brother on the shoulder and then hugged him tightly.

"Please come home," Loki sobbed, unable to restrain his tears anymore. "Please. I don't want to lose my brother."

"I will. I will." Thor ruffled Loki's hair, chanting the words like a mantra as Loki calmed himself.

"Remember the Yggdrasil, brother," Thor whispered.

Loki nodded, wiping at his eyes. Thor patted him on the back.

"And guess what? I'll bring you back an icicle!"

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><p>"Thor! Thor!" The slim figure nearly fell out of the tree with excitement, slipping down the branches. As soon as he landed, Loki darted down the rainbow bridge toward the Bifrost, still screaming his brother's name.<p>

Thor came rushing out of the entrance, a sparkling icicle clutched in one hand.

"Brother!"

The two boys clung to each other, both crying, though Thor tried to hide his tears. Loki cried unashamedly, still practically shouting in his delirium of joy.

Odin embraced his younger son, holding him close as the young boy rambled on happily. Then he hurried to see his wife, leaving the brothers alone.

Thor held out the icicle.

'Told you I'd bring you one."


	7. Even If I Was?

**A/N—****Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Thor**_**. None of it. None at all. Which is a shame, as that was some exceptional filming/acting. **

**I did it! Finally, I managed to get their dialogue down. So please forgive all the dialoge in this chapter. I'm sort of on a happy dialogue spree. **

**I decided to go against the norm here: Loki seems to be left out of battles a lot in fics. So this time, it's a little different. :)**

**Please read/review!**

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><p>"Brother?"<p>

Thor turned, tensing slightly, reacting to the worried sound of Loki's voice.

"What is it?" he asked, reaching out to clap his brother on the shoulder.

Loki looked around nervously, his green eyes anxious and unhappy. "Might I speak to you?" he asked.

"Of course!" Thor laughed at Loki's worried manner. "What about?"

"The Warriors Three."

"What about them?"

"They are planning some sort of...of escapade, from what I hear. Something about adventuring into the realms."

"And how are you to know that it isn't permitted? That they haven't been given permission?"

The fifteen-year-old glared at Thor.

"You're in on it, aren't you?" he asked, various emotions glittering in his eyes, which popped and sparkled with little flecks of red.

Thor started to shake his head, but changed it to a nod.

"Yes. We're going to persuade Heimdall to let us through the Bifrost into one of the nine realms. Midgard, most likely."

Loki stiffened. "Against Father's permission?"

"What other way?" Thor scoffed, for a moment letting his anger with his ever strict Father show. "We certainly wouldn't be going _with_ it."

Thor's little brother sighed.

"So you're going to leave me alone with Father? While Mother's so busy?"

Mother had thrown herself full-heartedly into the preparations for the celebratory dinner on the night of the anniversary of the defeat of the Frost Giants. She did every year, but for some reason she was determined that this year should be better than the others.

"He's always harsher on me than he is on you," Loki continued, a childish pout starting to form on his thin lips.

"Well, he won't be this year. You can come with us."

"Really?" The effect was immediate: Loki perked up like a puppy, and the ever increasing red sparks in his eyes faded. He looked like a little child—Thor almost took back his words, remembering that 15 was still, technically, a child. But no, Loki didn't deserve to be left behind. Father was acting strangely harsh of late, and, as Loki had stated, his wrath fell more often on the younger son.

"Yes. It'll be fun."

"It will!" Loki was now in full gear, giving in to complete childish abandon. He hugged Thor tightly, squealing "Thank you!"

"Don't think of it," Thor said. "You deserve it. It'll be our little secret, though. Who knows? Maybe we'll come across a battle, and you'll come back to Asgard a man."

Loki smiled. "It would be nice, not to be the only one who's not grown up."

"Though, you know, little brother," Thor told Loki, "it doesn't matter. Not for you. You'll be loved no matter who or what you are."

"Even if I was a Frost Giant?" Loki asked playfully, and then shuddered.

"_Even_ then. Though it might take a bit of work."

They headed for their rooms, laughing, and Thor hoped desperately that, by letting Loki come along, he was doing nothing but good.


	8. Midgard Visit

**A/N—I don't own _Thor._ It belongs to Marvel.**

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><p>Heimdall let them through with very little trouble. He gave his sister a stern glance that she ignored, and raised his eyebrow when he saw that Loki was coming along, but other than that he simply stood aside.<p>

"Not going to lecture us on how you're not allowed to let us through the Bifrost?" Fandral asked jovially, already knowing Heimdall's answer. Sure enough, the tall man countered with his age-old move: opportunely leave the key to the Bifrost in its place while he left. As he passed Thor, he tapped the young man on the arm, signaling that he wished to speak to him.

Thor followed Heimdall, leaving his friends and little brother discussing which realm to go to.

"Thor," Heimdall said as soon as they were out of the Bifrost and standing on the rainbow bridge. "Do you really mean to bring your brother with you?"

"I don't really see what's bothering you, Heimdall. You let me and the others through without raising objections."

"You weren't bringing a fifteen-year-old with you the other times," Heimdall told him. "You proved yourself a man last year, and all the others—"

"Not Sif," Thor put in.

"Sif is my sister. I knew she would be fine. But Loki is young. Too young. You'll get him hurt or killed."

"I won't," Thor said.

"You can say you won't, but that doesn't change the fact that you're going to put him in danger."

"Well, you can't turn him back."

"No, but I can limit where you go. Make you promise to go only to Midgard."

"Promise made," Thor agreed. He'd planned on Midgard anyway. It was simple, and Father would be least mad at them for going there.

Heimdall sighed, but said no more.

Returning back into the Bifrost, Thor found that he didn't even have to argue for Midgard.

"We've chosen Midgard," Valstaff informed Thor. "Loki's not been there, and Sif thinks he'd enjoy getting to see the Midgard sky from the bottom, instead of always from the top."

"Wonderful idea!" Thor applauded, quite pleased that his job wasn't really even a job.

They turned the key, selecting their destination, and then stood before the opening.

"You won't get sick, and you won't get taken to a different realm," Sif was explaining to Loki. "All you have to do is stand still and close your eyes."

"Why close your eyes?"

"Because it's quite bright, that's why."

"Oh."

Loki closed his eyes, and Thor yelled, "Keep them shut!" as, even from under his closed lids, he could see the brilliant glare.

He could feel all the molecules in his body warping as they were sucked into the Bifrost, and then his feet slammed into the ground.

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><p>Loki whooped happily as they landed—though he tottered around a little bit, he'd handled the landing pretty well. He looked up to the sky and his cries increased as he joyfully pointed out all the constellations that he'd viewed from above. It obviously thrilled him to see them from a different angle.<p>

"He's enjoying himself, isn't he?" Fandral asked Thor, leaning close so that Loki wouldn't notice their discussion.

"He is. I'm glad we brought him," Thor said.

"I am too," Sif cut in. "But I'm worried about what might happen if we meet up with anybody. What happened last time wasn't so good."

They all winced, remembering the run in with policemen. They'd spent a little bit of time making up excuses for their "outlandish clothing". Loki had a silver tongue, and would probably be of use in such a situation, but Thor didn't want to test that, in case the police of last time happened to be replaced by higher persons of authority, or anyone who could detain them because of the state of their clothes—like FBI agents or such, as Hogun called them.

"We'll stay out in the country," Valstaff said. "He's enjoying it, and it's a nice evening. We don't always have to pick a fight or something."

"No, you don't," a hoarse voice growled. "But if you don't want to pick a fight _all_ the time, maybe you just shouldn't pick them at all."


	9. Doesn't Know Enough To

**A/N—I don't own this. Marvel does.**

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><p>"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Father roared. His one eyes blazed, and the five young adults before him cowered. "Going to Midgard?" Without my permission?"<p>

Thor stood tall, though it made his (broken?) ribs smart terribly. "It was just a trip to Midgard. We didn't do anything dangerous."

"You got in a fight."

"And we won."

"Don't answer me in that tone, Thor," Odin growled at his beloved firstborn.

"Father," Loki interrupted. "We're sorry."

"Another thing you did wrongly, Thor! You brought your younger brother into Midgard! He could _easily_ have been killed in that fight."

Thor scoffed. "Father, Loki proved himself a man in that battle. He—"

"It does not matter how he proved himself. What matters is that you not only disobeyed my orders, but you put your brother in danger. And your friends."

The Warriors Three and Sif winced beneath Odin's glare. They bowed their heads, but said nothing.

"Leave," Father snapped at Thor's friends. "And take Loki with you."

Loki protested. "Father! I want to—"

"NO! You're lucky to be where you stand right now. You go."

Loki might have looked forbidding as he stood facing off his father if his pale battered face hadn't given in the impression of intense vulnerability.

"Go."

Fandral grabbed the young boy's arm and dragged him away, muttering something about getting him patched up, and they left, leaving Thor and his father alone.

"Father," Thor insisted, "we were fine. And it meant a lot to Loki to be included."

"Included in your folly?"

"We didn't mean to come across a fight. We just happened to run into one—the down there don't give up on a grudge, apparently."

Father sighed, putting his head in his hand.

"How well did he prove himself?"

"Very well. He fought better than I did at that age, I'm sure."

Odin scoffed. "Thor, over-exaggeration is not a good quality in a prince."

"I wasn't over-exaggerating."

"Loki's no warrior."

"How would you know?" Thor shouted angrily. "You haven't even seen him fight. I mean—he's not like Sif and I, and the other Warriors, but he's-he's got a power of his own."

There was silence as they stood, staring at each other.

"Go get cleaned up," Father said. "You're not to do this again, and if you do, you will suffer much greater punishment than that I'm giving you. For your punishment, Thor, you and your friends, _and Loki_, will spend some time reading in the library, learning something for once."

Thor left quickly, before what he was thinking became evident on his face.

_He doesn't even know his youngest son well enough to know that Loki loves to read._


	10. Screaming

**A/N—I don't own. Marvel does. **

**Okay, so I've seen a lot of Loki-has-nightmares fics, and I decided to take the road less traveled. Um...so...enjoy! :)**

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><p>Screaming.<p>

It wound its way into Thor's dreams, tormenting him, causing him to toss and turn. His blankets were hands holding him back, his mattress an abyss that sucked him in, while the hand that was his pillow clamped itself over his mouth, muffling his cries.

Cold, chilly fingers suddenly gripped his arms. It lasted for only a split second—ice cold against his fevered skin—and then they were gone, and the blankets were slowly disentangled from his feet and legs. His pillow was eased out from underneath him, but whoever had taken it wasn't quick enough to catch Thor's head as it slammed back onto his mattress. His tortured brain sent his a flash of pointed rocks, and he woke with a scream.

Another shriek mirrored his, and Thor's eyes snapped open to reveal a pale Loki standing before him.

Thor's limbs were shaking violently, and he had to push himself up against the headboard of his bed to support himself.

Loki approached Thor's bed tentatively, his green eyes wide but sympathetic. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Screaming." Thor said. His voice was shaking as badly as his body, and his throat burned as he tried to suppress tears. "Just screaming. And my blankets and my pillow and my bed...it was just all oppressive."

Loki slowly crawled up next to Thor and put his arms around him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, rocking Thor back and forth.

They sat there together, Thor's blankets lying on the floor until Loki bent and muttered something about his feet being cold.

It seemed odd, that a boy of sixteen should be able to make the frenzied dreams of an eighteen-year-old go away better than a mother or a father.

But he did.


	11. Hurt

**A/N—Marvel owns _Thor_. Not me.**

**Thank you to all who have reviewed/alerted/favorited! This chapter's for you!**

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><p>Thor hadn't ever really thought about weakness, or vulnerability. Those two words hadn't been a part of his world, except as derogatory terms used to incense and provoke. He'd never meant what he said, even when he spat such words like "weak" and "coward" at people—normally poor Loki, who had taken it as a far greater affront than Thor had ever meant it.<p>

A moan sounded from the bed, and Loki's fingers tightened on Thor's wrist, digging into the skin like a baby's toothless bite.

"Shhh..." Thor whispered, trying to soothe his little brother. His voice cracked and wavered, and for a moment, he actually sounded scared. "Shhh..."

Loki's skin burned like fire, and Thor resisted the urge to tear his hand away and check for burns on his own skin.

"Thor?" Loki murmured, shifting in his delirious sleep. His blanket slid to the floor as a convulsive twitch of his legs shoved it off of the bed. Thor made a move to bend and retrieve it, but as he extricated his wrist from Loki's grasp the young boy moaned again, louder this time, and Thor felt nails gouge into his arm, drawing blood.

"No!" Loki screamed suddenly, clinging to Thor's arm like it was a lifeline.

The door banged open and Mother appeared: her hair loose, her eyes worried, she knelt by Loki's bed and started running her fingers through his dark hair, pushing the strands from his flushed, sweaty face.

"Shush, baby," she crooned. "Shush...I know...I know..."

Thor picked up the blanket from the floor. It was as warm as if it had sat out in the sun, and damp from Loki's sweating. The old quilt was torn in several places, and Loki's fevered tossing had turned it into a crumpled mess that, while Mother tended to Loki, Thor set himself to fixing.

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><p><em>Little hands slipped past Thor's crossed arms, pushing them away from his stomach with childish persistence. Tiny fingers entwined with his, peeling the clenched fingers of Thor's hand out to make room. Someone crawled onto his lap, cuddling up as close as they could to him. <em>

_"What is wrong?" _

_Thor stared down at Loki's swinging feet, finding comfort in the simple movement._

_"What is wrong?" Repeated with the same patience that Mother always used, the formal words sounded wrong in Loki's toddler voice, still high with youth._

_Thor sighed. "Nothing."_

_"What's nothing?" _

_"What?" _

_"Sif?" Loki's finger pointed towards the fighting girl, her dark hair swinging about her elbows. _

_"Yeah, I guess." Thor swallowed. _

_"Why?"_

_"Nothing. Just something she said."_

_He breathed deeply, trying not to remember the five-year-old's biting words. _

_**"People only like you because you're a prince! If you weren't no one would spend any time with you!"**_

_"Sif is mean," Loki stated. _

_Thor didn't answer. He fought against the tears that threatened to conquer him. _

_A warm fabric was pushed into Thor's open hand._

_"Blanket likes you."_

_Little arms around his neck—"I like you too."_

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><p>A strangled sound tore from Thor's chest, and he let the tears overwhelm him. He felt Mother gather him into her arms, felt her stroke his hair and rub his back, whispering, "It's okay" over and over, like a mantra.<p>

Thor stared wordlessly at his younger brother, still tossing around on the bed. Tears blurred his vision, and that, and the light of the room, and the flush of fever on Loki's pale face, made his eyes look almost red.


	12. Love You

**A/N—I don't own this. Marvel does.**

**I uploaded another chapter this evening! :) I hope you all enjoy it. I think that this one was pretty good.**

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><p>Father never came to sit by Loki as his fever raged. Even when Mother would be forced to leave the sickroom to hide her tears from Thor, Father didn't come—and Thor struggled against the rising tide of anger and hate that he found, one morning, suddenly welled up whenever he thought of his father.<p>

Tears slid down Thor's face as he sat by Loki's bed.

_One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten...eleven...twelve..._

Thor gave a coughing sob as the clock struck the first hour of Loki's seventeenth birthday.

"_Please..._" he moaned, his animalistic groan coinciding with Loki's strained whimper. "Please, little brother, don't leave me."

As he leaned forward over the mattress, burying his wet face in the warm covers of Loki's bed, his little brother's fingers brushed against Thor's, and he reeled away, nearly screaming for Mother in his horror.

Loki was burning up, more than he had been the .last time Thor had made contact. He couldn't even see how Loki could bear the heat.

He made up his mind then.

Spinning around, he stumbled from the room, wiping at his again watering eyes as he fled down the hall, heading for the rainbow bridge.

"Jotunheim," he ordered, unable to even steady his voice for the one simple word. "Jotunheim, and bring me a barrel. Or something."

Heimdall raised an eyebrow and asked, "The prince?"

"Ill. Now bring me a barrel like I said!"

He was crying openly, shaking violently like a baby, and the moment Heimdall set the barrel at his feet he snapped out, "Now Jotunheim!" He didn't bother with "thank you" or "please".

Never had the disintegrating feeling of his body as he vanished into the Bifrost stream felt so releasing. The brief moment of nothingness as he traveled to Jotunheim felt more soothing than Mother's embraces and whispered encouragements. When he landed, ankle deep, in the cold snow of Jotunheim, he fell to his knees, shoving both hands into the heavy, packed matter, crunching it momentarily in his hands before depositing the handful of snow into the barrel. His tears—still flowing freely—froze on his face, and the stinging wind pressed the icy drops into his skin, already raw from constant weeping.

"Take me back!" he ordered Heimdall, standing again and bellowing his order to the wind. As the Bifrost sucked him back to Asgard, he caught a brief glimpse of Frost Giants hovering on his peripheral vision. The look on their faces was pure human pity, and he wondered momentarily if he had looked so lost, so ruined.

He didn't care.

Heimdall's words of—_something_ (Pity? Consolation?)—went unheeded as he pushed past the watcher of the Bifrost and stalked back across the rainbow bridge.

As soon as the snow touched Loki's skin, Thor knew he had done the right thing.

The burning redness of fever faded from his face and hands, revealing Loki's naturally porcelain complexion. His eyes, which had been frightening red dots behind his fluttering lids, returned to their crystalline green. Loki's whimpers subsided, turning into sighs that in turn became deep, healthy breaths.

"Thor?"

For the second time that evening, Thor collapsed to his knees with tears streaming down his face. He gathered his brother in his arms and held onto him tightly, weeping, choking on the tears that constructed his raw, aching throat. He didn't have the strength to even call for Mother.

"Thor?"

"Happy Birthday, little brother," Thor whispered. "I love you."


	13. Broken

**A/N—Marvel own _Thor_. Not me. **

**Also, this is rather AU. But it has a reason. This fanfiction rolls with my interpretation that Thor and Loki loved each other all the way, even throughout the bad choices made. I'm a bit of an Odin basher when it comes to _Thor_. Just so you all know.**

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><p>Strange, how sickness could change so many things. Take something whole—no, not whole—something <em>failing<em>, and rip it to shreds.

For years, relations in the royal family had been straining, pulling at the ropes that had bound it together for so long. Their affection for each other had faded; the crisscrossing strands of love that had made up their family snapping until the only thing that kept them from breaking was illusions.

With Loki's illness, those strands snapped in a clean break, as if they were heads cleanly severed from bodies by the stroke of a sword. The illusions disappeared, shimmering for a brief moment with all the brightness of a rainbow before anger and hate flooded over, washing away the remnants of the shattered image.

_"Did you ever__come to see your son? Did you?"_

_"Thor..."Father's voice growled a warning as he half-rose in his seat, his one eye blazing with suppressed wrath. "Hold your tongue."_

_"No! Your son was __**dying**__—and you never sat by him. You never held his hand. You never comforted him. You never even asked if he was going to be alright."_

_"I had a kingdom—"_

_"You had a SON!" _

The night of Loki's seventeenth birthday had fractured them into a million pieces, and the whole of Asgard had danced that night, obliviously, over the broken shards.

_"The fact that he's a Frost Giant shouldn't change how much you love him." Thor took a shaky breath. "It didn't change it for me. You told me, seventeen years ago, that he was my little brother, and despite the questions and doubts that I had even then I accepted him and loved him as such."_

_"As did I," Father whispered. _

_"And when did that change?" _

_"It never did. I love him still."_

_Thor scoffed. "I thought Loki was supposed to be the god of lies and mischief."_

They all lied. They lied to Asgard, pasting smiles of love on their faces, only to let them slip off when no one was looking. And when the night was over, the strands were left fluttering brokenly in the chill wind of emptiness.

It wasn't that Thor didn't try to fix them.


	14. Forbidden Subject

**A/N—I dont' own this. Thor belongs to Marvel.**

**I'm so sorry about this short chapter, but I was busy and almost didn't get anything written. But I promised a chapter, and a chapter I was determined to deliver. So, here you go!**

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><p><em>Thunk<em>. Another book landed on the massive pile, and Thor smirked as he heard a page tear. Snatching yet another title from the shelf, he flipped through it, scanning the pages for key words, and then put it back. That one was alright.

Down and down the shelf he went, his candle flickering faintly in the darkness.

_Frost Giants...physical description..._

_Frost Giants...history..._

_Jotunheim..._

_Frost Giants...Frost Giants...Frost Giants..._

Book after book left the shelf, and the pile beside him grew higher.

"What are you doing?" Loki's voice was curious but hurt. He picked up the top book and looked at it in pity. "What did the books ever do to you?"

"I'm just clearing out the library, little brother," Thor assured Loki. "We've too many books, and these aren't terribly important."

"You can never have too many books," Loki muttered underneath his breath, but he joined Thor at the newest shelf, looking inquiringly at his elder brother. "Which ones are we getting rid of?"

Thor ripped one more book off the shelf and then turned to collect his stack. "I've got them all. You should go to be, brother. You're still recovering, and if Mother finds out you were out of bed before morning she'd—"

"Why this one?" Loki suddenly moaned, reaching out and yanking a book from the bottom of the pile. "I rather like this one."

"Well..." Thor winced. Of course it would be the one that he had taken off the shelves because it had the most information on his now forbidden subject. "That one's old. And no one reads it anymore, so I decided to take it off and make more room for better things."

"_I_ read this," Loki countered, and his look (green eyes puppy-like in his pale face, illuminated eerily by the light of the candle) melted Thor's heart.

He made no move to take the book back. "You can keep it," he said, even though he knew it was a risk.

"Thank you." Loki smiled, and it made him look sicker than ever—even more vulnerable than he had looked before.

Thor nodded towards the door, and Loki sighed.

"Bed, yes, brother."

As soon as Loki had disappeared down the hall, Thor grabbed the candle and applied it to the books.

If anyone had any suspicions about his brother's origin, they were going to find it difficult to research their ideas.

As of tonight, Frost Giants were a forbidden subject.


	15. From Nightmare To Nightmare

**A/N_—Thor_ belongs to Marvel. Not to me. **

**Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm _really _busy today, and just wanted to give you all something, as a thank you for all your kind reveiws. So please enjoy this! :)**

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><p><em><strong>Dark clouds crushed down on him, pressing him into the earth, muting the screams that pulsed and vibrated in his shaking body. Something enveloped him, holding him down, defeating his attempts to free himself. He couldn't breathe, and when he opened his mouth to call for help he was cut off by the screaming of a million voices, all calling his name, begging for help, for him, for...<strong>_

"_Thor!_"

The tormented wail jolted Thor from his nightmares, banishing his own inner screaming, replacing it with the childish cry of—

"_Thor!_" It was only when Loki screamed the second time that Thor recognized his brother's voice. The blankets tangled around his legs and feet as he leapt from the bed, and he staggered slightly, almost toppling over as he bent, ripping the blanket away from him. The floor was cold—bitterly cold—and Thor could feel ice forming beneath his feet even as he ran. A breezy, chill wind swept down the hall, carrying ice particles and tiny snowflakes with it.

Loki's cries echoed eerily in the empty halls. It seemed that no one else had heard him. The ice that was beginning to lace the walls and doorframes sparkled with a light of its own, and the now whirling snow made the hall seem otherworldly. Icicles dangled like porcelain teardrops from the ceiling, poised over Thor's head like beautiful daggers ready to strike.

He slipped, and almost screamed as he spun on down the hall. Memories of the Frost Giant attack so long ago—_was it already fifteen years?_—flashed through his brain with mind-numbing swiftness, and he found that he was shaking when he finally regained control and scrambled to his feet outside of Loki's door.

Little gusts of wind seeped out from the cracks beneath and around the door, chilling Thor's bare feet. He opened the door carefully, not wanting to tear his brother too jarringly from his nightmare.

Loki tossed and turned on his bed, no longer screaming, but whimpering piteously, moaning every once in a while. His blankets were all on the floor, and the force of Loki's thrashing threatened to send the young man to join them.

"Loki," Thor whispered. Something held him back—kept him from rushing to his brother's side. "Loki."

The only answer was the creaking of Loki's bed and the soft keening of the wind.

A candle flickered on the bedside table, a slim finger of flame that pointed upwards, popping and crackling in the relative silence. Thor cast his eyes to the ceiling and recoiled.

The ceiling seemed to crawl. Rivulets of suspended water inched across the stone like snakes, winding into different forms. Thor saw the branches of the Yggdrasil—the imprint of the tiles in the throne room—the frozen, winding rivers of Jotunheim—

Ripping his eyes away from the ceiling, Thor saw Loki toss around violently, and he rushed forward just in time to catch his brother as he fell to the ground.

"_MOTHER!_" he screamed in horror.

Loki's skin burned with fever.


	16. Hypocrite

**A/N—I don't own _Thor. _Marvel does.**

**The basic idea for this chapter was given to me by The Pearl Maiden. Thanks, Pearl Maiden! :)**

**I don't really like this chapter. But...I have writer's block. And I promised a chapter. So I wrote something. Also, I stole a line from the movie _Thor. _See if you can find it! Put it in a review if you think you did. :)**

**Thanks!**

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><p>"What are you doing?" Thor screamed, his voice shaking in fear and disgust.<p>

Odin looked up from where he stood by Loki's bed, his armor glittering in the light of the candle.

"What do you mean?" Odin asked, but a warning glint steeled his eye.

"You're in _armor_. Where are you going? What are you doing?"

"To war, Thor. The duty of a king."

"What about the duty of a father?" Thor yelled. The words, so different and yet so similar to the ones he had thrown at his father some time before—_You have a SON!_—hung in the air, bitter with hatred and pain and anger.

"Do not broach that subject with me, son!" Odin roared, and beside him Loki moaned in his delirious sleep. "We have already discussed this, and it will not be brought up again!"

"You hypocrite! You said you love him! You said that he is your son!"

"He is. He _is_ my son, and I love him."

"No you_ don't!_ If you loved him you'd stay by him, and let him see your face when he woke. If you loved him, you wouldn't be leaving him. Because if it was I who was sick, you'd be right here, where _I _am for him. But you're not. You're leaving him. What if he dies?"

"Thor, you push your bounds. Watch your tongue," Odin growled.

Thor shook his head, pushing past his father to take his seat by Loki's bedside, gathering his brother's burning hand into his own. He ignored his father's words and focused on cooling Loki's skin with the snow that Heimdall had brought.

"Prepare yourself for battle, Thor. It is your duty."

"No. I will stay here."

"Thor—"

"I will stay here."

Silence reigned, and for several moments Thor waited for Odin to speak.

"I will expect you to prepare for your coronation upon my return." Odin left without another word, the door closing behind him. He didn't say good-bye: not to his elder son, who glared at his as he left. Not to his younger son, who tossed and turned on the bed.

Tears started to Thor's eyes.

"Is there something wrong with me? Am I cursed?"

Loki looked up at Thor with pained eyes.

"That he doesn't love me? Is there a reason?"

Thor embraced his brother, and he couldn't keep from sobbing.

The two brothers clung to each other, weeping loudly, and Thor almost didn't notice that Loki's skin gradually cooled, the fever draining away with every anguished sob.


	17. Forgive

**A/N—_Thor _belongs to Marvel. Not to me.**

**This chapter was inspired by Loki's Little Helper, who said something in a review-I won't say what, because it'll spoil the chappie-so, Thank You, Loki's Little Helper! Also, thank you to all those who have reviewed/favorited/alerted. And sorry if this seems cliched. It seemed right, sort of. **

**Also, sorry for the short chapter. The computer is in high demand, so I only have a liimited amount of time in which to write anything. Plus, my writer's block makes writing difficult...**

**Please read/review! Oh, one more thing: I said in previous chapters "Valstaff". I would like to amend that now, adn make it "Valstagg." Thanks!**

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><p>The feast in honor of Loki's eighteenth birthday was solemn and bitter. The Asgardians' salutations were hollow, and their eyes were blank as they showered empty <em>Happy Birthday<em>s and other such petty phrases on the young man, who, with glazed green eyes and listless fingers, clearly could not care less if they said _You monster!_

"Eat, brother!" Thor cried jovially, hoping that his voice was genuine, even if he felt nothing but hurt and anger. "It is your day! Your special day!"

Loki looked at him despondently. "I am not hungry." He had, at least, the breeding to keep his voice soft, unheard by the citizens who attempted to appear like they were actually _enjoying _the feast.

Even as Loki spoke, his swirled his spoon around in his soup, sloshing the liquid over his fingers and onto the table. Thor took the spoon from Loki's fingers, replacing it with a piece of bread, and scooped some soup into the utensil.

"Eat. You're still far too pale, brother. You have to get better. Now eat."

Loki shook his head and put down his bread, which his weak fingers couldn't disintegrate as much as he wished.

"Please, Loki," Thor begged, struggling now to lower his voice.

"No."

"Loki—"

Mother intercepted the spoon that Thor thrust towards Loki and murmured,

"Leave him be, Thor."

Thor sank back in his chair and whispered, "At least drink, then."

In answer, Loki sipped half-heartedly at his wine, his green eyes daring Thor to protest, to insist that he eat or drink anything else. Then he slumped in his seat, looking at the ground, a look of pure lethargy on his pale face.

Slowly the revelry ceased, and everything fell silent. Only a few people spoke. No one laughed, save Fandral and his little group of women, who tittered in response to his every joke.

A creak filled the hall as the huge doors opened, and bloody, tired soldier filed in, blue Jotun blood staining their armor.

"Loki..." Father's deep voice echoed in the now absolutely silent hall.

Loki's chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back, his legs shaking, barely able to support him.

"Forgive me." Odin's voice cracked.

The younger prince of Asgard rushed, weeping, into his father's bloody embrace.


	18. In On It

**A/N—_Thor _belongs to Marvel. Not to me.**

**Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to all who have reviewed/favorited/alerted! I had nine e-mails in my inbox this morning, and seven of them were from FF. All for this story. So thank you all! **

**This one's just sort of...sort of...well, it sort of goes back to the fluff days of chapters 1 and 2. **

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><p>Loki, though eighteen, still forgave with the simplicity of a child, his father's neglect of the past years forgotten in the joy of love and acceptance. He flourished, color finally returning to his pale face, and strength replacing the lethargic weakness that had debilitated him for months. The night that Father returned, Thor cried himself to sleep for pure joy and relief, able for the first time in months to close his eyes, unafraid.<p>

"Thor?" Loki slipped into Thor's bedroom some three weeks after Father's return to Asgard. His green eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled himself at the foot of Thor's bed.

"Yes, brother?" Thor asked, sitting up, rubbing his eyes and blinking in the light of the sun that filtered in through the drapes.

"Father wants you."

"No prank?" Thor was suspicious. He eyed his brother warily, certain that he'd seen some mischief in his eyes, in his stance. And it _was _there—Loki was spilling over with some naughtiness.

Loki shook his head. "Father wants you." The sparkle increased, and another emotion glittered behind it: happiness and enthusiasm. "I was told to come tell you that you're to come to the Throne room."

"What for?" Grudgingly, Thor slid out of his bed onto the floor. Loki didn't answer, though a smile curled his lips—the only sign of emotion that his facial features ever seemed to show. Despite his childish method of forgiveness, he had grown up in every other way, his happy laughter replaced by grim smiles, his pouts and tears giving way bitter silences.

Once dressed, Thor headed for the Throne room, Loki following, his smile growing as they drew nearer.

"Thor." Father rose from his throne as they entered the room. He clapped his elder son on the shoulder and nodded to Loki, who beamed. "Thank you, Loki. You may stay."

Loki nodded, but headed towards the door. He leaned against the wall by the arch, watching as Odin began speaking.

"You're nearly twenty-one, Thor. Since the foundation of Asgard, it has been the tradition that, when the eldest son reaches the age of twenty-one, he is crowned king. So I think it is time for you to begin preparation."

"Father..." Thor's heart hammered in his chest. "Such an honor—"

"I believe you are ready, Thor. And I am not the only one. I have discussed this with my advisors, and with your mother. They all believe you ready. As does your brother."

Loki nodded fervently from where he stood, and he mouthed "Accept" at Thor.

"Will you accept this honor, Thor?" Father asked, and he reached behind him, lifting a winged helmet from the table by his throne. "Will you accept your place as heir to the throne of Asgard?"

Thor froze. He knew what he had to say, but he couldn't speak.

Footsteps tapped behind him, and Loki was suddenly behind him, prompting him, glee lining his voice. Thor understood the mischief in his brother's eyes then—he had been in this—and he repeated the words his brother fed him.

"I will, Father. I will accept this honor, and all the duties along with it. I thank you,"—Loki's hands pushed Thor to his knees, and then his footsteps bounced away as he returned to his spot by the door—"for this honor."

Thor bent his head as his father placed the helmet on his brow, and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of clapping.

"Well done, brother!" Loki applauded.

"Yes, well done," Father agreed, smiling at his younger son. "Now, for a few more words before you leave: your classes will begin tomorrow."

Thor looked up in horror. "_Classes_?"

"Simple knowledge of various things is required."

"_Classes_?" It was all he could say.

The door slammed shut as someone left, and a few seconds later the halls of Asgard rang with Loki's bright, bubbling laughter.


	19. Classes

**A/N—_Thor _belongs to Marvel. Not to me.**

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><p>Why Midgardian knowledge was of any importance <em>whatsoever<em> to the throne of Asgard, Thor didn't—and never would—know. All he knew was that it was boring, and horrible, and time-consuming.

"The sooner you finish, brother," Loki chided irritably, "the sooner you can be done. And the sooner _I_ can be done, as well."

Thor slammed the book shut. "I am done."

"Finish, brother, meaning _to-be-done-with-the-task-given-you_, not _done-when-you-so-choose-to-be_. So please, Thor, finish."

Returning, grumbling, to his book, Thor stared down at the words lethargically. He was absolutely positive that mathematics was the worst subject ever invented.

"Multiply it," Loki murmured as the tutor passed by.

"Multiply?" Thor repeated the word to himself over and over as he worked the problem. It was long and tedious, and he yawned more than he worked, while Loki sat by impatiently, staring grumpily at Thor's slow work.

"Very good, prince," the tutor praised as Thor completed the problem. "Now just finish the rest, and you will be dismissed."

Beside him Loki groaned, sliding down his chair momentarily before straightening again. His green eyes were narrowed, and they glittered mischievously as he swished his hand back and forth along the table. Thor watched in amazement as numbers shone in the wake of his pale fingers.

200. 360. 90.

The answers to the problems.

They were gone instantly, as if they had never been there, and when the tutor passed by, Thor's sheet was filled with finished problems.

"Very good, Thor. You too, Loki."

The younger prince winced, and for a second he looked like a guilty child, but then he recovered himself and smiled warmly at the tutor.

"Thank you. He needed to be done.'

"Yes, he did."

"_Am_ I done?" Thor asked hopefully, not even caring that he was begging.

The tutor sighed. "Yes. But you must return this afternoon for history."

"Of course," Loki assured the tutor as he followed Thor quickly out into the hall.

They looked at each other once the door had closed behind them.

"Well?" Thor asked. "Up for a little fighting?'

Loki smiled. "Why not?"


	20. Sparring and Surprises

**A/N—I don't own this.**

**I'm so sorry for the long pause in writing. I had a terrible, terrible, terrible case of writer's block-I would sometimes get a literal headache while trying to write. Also, I've been really busy. But the updates should soon be returning to their normal regular one-a-day schedule. **

**Thank you to everyone-SO MUCH-for all your revies/alerts/faves. It means so much to me. **

**The sparring scene is for Charisma B, who asked if we'd be seeing some "brother sparring".**

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><p>There it was: the glint he'd been looking for.<p>

Metal clanged against metal, and the force of Loki's blow made both their blades tremble. Sparks glittered in Loki's green eyes, making them hard. Thor grinned—_now things got interesting_.

"Good job, little brother," he said carelessly; he let disappointment stain his voice. "But couldn't you try a little harder?"

The next blow produced a satisfyingly painful jarring of Thor's arm.

"Harder?" Loki asked.

"Of course."

"Alright, then." Loki brought his sword spinning up mere inches from Thor's face, and it slammed against his helmet, knocking it awry. Before Thor could bring his blade up in a parry, Loki had danced away, leaving Thor rattled. As Thor advanced, eager to get his blow in, Loki darted forward and slipped his sword through Thor's defenses—

"Thor! Loki!"

Thor got his blow—though Fandral booed loudly, yelling _"BACKSTABBER!"_ at him as he headed towards Mother, leaving Loki rubbing his head.

"Yes, Mother?" he asked.

Mother looked them up and down, taking in every single bruise. "Several things. First: don't fight so hard—Thor. I saw that move back there—your brother's still recovering." Neither boy looked ashamed. Mother continued, not bothering to chide them anymore. "Secondly: work harder at your lessons. I've just spoken to your tutor, and what I heard was less than satisfactory. Thirdly—" She stopped, and drew them aside a little, away from the Warriors Three and Sif. "Thirdly, your father wants to speak with you both. I don't know what about."

"We didn't do anything," Loki said, and even if he _had_ been lying, which, to the best of Thor's knowledge, he wasn't, he would have taken Mother in. He looked completely innocent.

"I never said you did. I merely said that you were wanted. Now, go along."

* * *

><p>"Did either of you go to Jotunheim?" Father's voice was carefully level, but his eye gleamed with anger.<p>

"No, Father," Thor answered, keeping his voice at the same tone, while Loki shook his head fervently, his green eyes full of emotion.

"_Then why did several Jotuns arrive here and murder five Asgardians?_"

Thor felt the blood surge to his face, and he had to struggle to contain his anger. Loki said nothing, but he was far too pale. He gripped his hammer tightly, and hefted it in a movement of frustration until Loki pushed it down. The dark-haired young god was trembling ever so slightly, and Thor could see the fever beginning to boil there.

_Please don't fall ill—please don't._

"Father, let us go to Jotunheim! Let us have revenge!" Despite his fear of Loki's becoming sick, Thor couldn't keep himself from spitting out the words.

"No! We must find out how they got here," Father replied. He looked worriedly over Thor's shoulder at Loki, who straightened beneath Odin's gaze.

"Ask Heimdall, and let us go to Jotunheim!" Thor repeated angrily.

"Heimdall has seen nothing. They came through some secret way, and ended up in the palace. Just like last time."

Memories of bloody Jotuns—_and Loki, spinning around in a circle with blue fingers_—rose to the surface of Thor's memory, and he shuddered.

Behind him, Loki crumpled senseless to the ground.


	21. No Secret Passages?

**A/N—I don't own _Thor_. Everything belongs to Marvel.**

**Okay-to make up for my terrible, terrible absence (which was completely unannouced and dragged on for a long time...) I'm putting up another chapter...Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

><p>"Loki?"<p>

Thor didn't care that his voice was shaking with horror. He didn't care that his knees were knocking together audibly. He didn't care that Mjolnir fell from his grip and dented the ground.

"Loki? _LOKI!_"

His little brother's bed was rumpled, the sheets and covers lying abandoned on the floor. But it was empty.

A chilly wind came from nowhere, making the door swing about, revealing for brief instants the lonesome room, all empty, all dark, all cold.

Thor staggered away from the doorframe, determined not to stoop so low as to clutch it for support.

The hallway was even colder than Loki's room, and as Thor ran along, his heart hammering against his ribs, it got ever colder—almost as if the cold was a trail, leading him somewhere, left behind by someone.

Ice crystals laced the middle of the wall: the trailing remnants of icy fingertips straying across the surface. On the marble floor, smudged footprints shimmered briefly in a strange blue light. Thor shivered, remembering with horror the Jotun attack of so long ago. Had Loki really only been two? Had seventeen years really gone by? It seemed unreal to Thor, and he found himself transported back—four years old, frightened, clinging to Mother, screaming as they careened across the ice-coated floor, Loki dancing about happily—

The stolen Casket was suddenly glinting in the darkness ahead, tingeing everything a melancholy blue, making the grated floor ripple like water, shining like ice.

"Loki?" He'd always known that Loki bore an affinity to the Casket.

"Thor?"

Spinning around, Thor beheld Loki.

His little brother was pale, and his green eyes bore the tell-tale red that fever always lent them, bringing out the Jotun in him.

"Little brother, you should not be up. What were you doing?"

"Walking..." Loki's voice was feverishly distant.

Thor didn't bother answering. He grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him along the corridor. Loki's fingers were a dull blue, and Thor massaged them, trying to ease the Asgardian color back into Loki's hands.

As they slipped out of the hall, Loki looked back reluctantly. His eyes glittered.

"Thor...the Jotuns—"

"Is that why you slept-walked?" Thor asked, trying not to sound irritated. "Little brother, I assure you, Heimdall simply let his guard down. Someone will speak to him, and it shan't happen again."

"Father—"

"—is worrying too much. There is no way into Asgard besides the Bifrost, Loki. You're still ill, and walking around in the cold, fretting about a mistake in the security is no way to recover. You want to be at my coronation, don't you?"

Loki livened up. "Yes!"

"Then rest, and don't worry. I'll speak to Father, and to Heimdall, and we'll fix whatever went wrong. But there's no secret passageway into Asgard."

Thor's assurances didn't stop Loki from looking back again, and Thor was too busy _reassuring_ his brother to hear Loki whisper,

"But there _is_."


	22. Ready To Mess Up

**A/N—I don't own this. Marvel owns _Thor_. **

**Thank you so much for all your reviews/alerts/ favs! It means so much to me! **

**NOTE ON AGES: Thor and Loki are the human equivalents of 21 and 19. Of course, they're probably closer to 2100 and 1900, if not older, but it's difficult to trace centuries of brotherhood, so I'm tracing their years through human equivalents. :)**

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><p>The dark fabric lay in a blood-colored heap on the pale floor. He didn't bother to pick it up. He didn't want to acknowledge his shaking hands. So long as it stayed on the floor, he didn't have to try to put it on. He didn't have to admit that he was nervous. That he was scared.<p>

It hit him, then, that he wasn't ready.

"Thor?"

The door opened, moaning softly as Loki slid inside the room. He spoke the moment the door was closed again.

"You look kingly, brother," he commented, motioning towards Thor. He kindly made no comment on the discarded cloak, though his eyes flickered to it briefly, filling with a strangled emotion that looked like pity. "You'll make Asgard proud."

"Do you think, Loki, that I can be king?" Thor asked, retrieving his cloak from the floor and, twisting it around in his hands, returning to his seat at the end of his bed. The covers were rumpled beneath him, and he nearly slid off.

"Yes, I do." Loki sat next to Thor, pulling his legs up onto the bed and settling into a relatively stable position. "When Father told you that you were to be crowned, he said that I believed you ready. I did, I do, and I always will. It's not to say you won't make mistakes. It's not to say you won't be rather idiotic at times. It's not to say you'll be perfect. But you're ready." He looked at Thor's cloak. "You're rumpling that."

"It doesn't matter. I can't get it to stay on."

Loki smiled—he didn't laugh anymore, Thor suddenly realized—and raised both his eyebrows in skeptical amusement before taking the cloak from Thor's hands.

"Your hands can't shake while pinning this to your armor," he muttered.

"I—I'm—" Thor swallowed, unable to admit it. His little brother smiled again, and his vibrant eyes shimmered happily for a moment. He was nineteen, and an excited child—and Thor's nervousness was worth it.

"Nervous? So am I."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid you'll mess up!"


	23. Important

**A/N—I don't own _Thor_. Marvel does. **

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews/alerts/favs! :D**

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><p><strong>After the Coronation<strong>

The Jotuns could not go unpunished. Yet what had Father said?

_"We cannot risk war by punishing them."_

His father was insane. Now, more than ever, Thor needed to be king. He needed to be king for the safety, for the protection of his people. For the _honor_ of his people.

_"Risk war? We should be preparing for war! We __**cannot**__ let them go unpunished! They killed two of our guards. They nearly reached the Casket! They could have stolen it! Worse, they could have passed it by and continued on into the city. They could have massacred us!"_

How could Father have failed to see it? Thor had said it, spoken the words that his father should have been able to see in his eyes.

"_They wouldn't have stopped at the Casket, had they stolen it! They would have called more—with the Casket that would have been far too easy! They would have gone into Asgard! They would have killed many before we killed them. They could perhaps have even reached the throne! Killed you, or Mother, or Loki, me even!"_

He looked into the icy depths of the Casket, and saw in it death—Jotuns storming into the hall, ice bursting from their fingertips, slamming sharp points into unarmored bodies—

The force of his angry whirl nearly made him trip on the icy floor. He strode up the hallway, his fury making his heart hammer in his chest.

"_Thor!_"

Light footsteps tapped on the grille behind him. Thor ignored his little brother's voice. He didn't want to talk to him.

"Thor, might I show you something?"

"No, Loki."

"But—"

"No."

Loki's footsteps grew louder as he ran faster, trying to catch up with Thor. Eventually he skidded to a walk, a feverish flush tingeing his cheeks after his exertion.

"Please," he pleaded. His green eyes were troubled, and he was shaking ever so slightly.

Thor shook his head. "No. I don't wish to see anything other than vengeance for this deed."

"But I can—"

"No." Thor returned to his monosyllabic answers, not wanting to lash out at his brother, even though every pore in his tense body wanted to spin around and yell at the young man following him, insisting that—

"Thor, it's _important_!" Loki persisted, tugging on Thor's arm, trying to turn him around. "Please!" He was practically whining now, and Thor ground his teeth in irritation.

"Thor, please," Loki begged, increasing his pulling. His voice rang through the corridor. Thor pried Loki's fingers from his arm and strode on ahead, with a last, sharp, _"No."_, leaving Loki behind.

He looked back, just once, right before he left the hall.

Loki was still standing there, and just like he had the night when Thor had led him away from the Casket, assuring him that no secret passages were to be found in Asgard, his little brother's eyes were fixed at a certain portion of wall half-way down the hall.


	24. I Don't Want To Lose My Brother

**A/N—I don't own this. Marvel does.**

**Thank you so much to everyone! Your reviews/favorites/alerts all mean so much to me. **

**I really like this chapter. But you guys might not. I hope you do. Please read/review!**

"Father—"

Thor heard the tremor in his little brother's voice; it reminded him of his first battle—_"Please come home. Please. I don't want to lose my brother."_—it reminded him of how frightened Loki had been, how he hadn't wanted Thor to leave, because he didn't want to lose him—_" I don't want to lose my brother."_—it reminded him that Loki really hadn't changed much—that it had been only five years since Loki had been young enough to cry without shame.

Father's roar was so different from the quiet love with which he had comforted his younger boy that long gone day. Loki recoiled, hiding the evasive action in the form of a shocked straightening of his slim body. Only Thor knew Loki well enough to understand the emotion in his eyes. Only Thor had cared enough to learn each and every shade. Only Thor saw the hurt. He also saw the horror.

"_I don't want to lose my brother."_

_"I don't want to lose my brother."_

The sudden spark of vibrant lightning tore Thor back to his father's burning eye and the increasing whir of the Bifrost.

The pins of his cloak were ripped from his chest, tearing the red fabric away. All the while Father's angry voice roared like furious waves in his ears, blocking out everything. Loki's eyes were a turmoil of emotion, and Thor felt nausea rise in his throat as he struggled with the thrashing sea of his father's rage and the dizzying whirlpool of his brother's frightened eyes.

Mjolnir was torn from his sweaty palm. He could feel his hand shaking, and his fingers felt weak.

_"I don't want to lose my brother."_

_"I don't want to lose my brother."_

_"I don't want to lose my brother."_

He knew what was happening.

He couldn't speak—he couldn't seem to find any words of his own. All he could think of were Loki's words of five years ago—_"I don't want to lose my brother..."_—

His armor cracked and broke; the sharp shards crashing to the floor like the broken remnants of their family had that night when Thor had finally hit the root of all that they had fought over.

_"You had a __**SON**__!"_

There was a blast of light—more brilliant than the prismatic rays of the rainbow bridge, though ever so much clearer—and Thor rocketed backwards.

The last thing he saw before the Bifrost ripped him from all he loved was the horror in Loki's vibrant eyes—his little brother's pale face as he staggered back—the tears in his eyes, struggling to the surface—

_"I don't want to lose my brother..."_


	25. Father Dead

**A/N—I don't own _Thor_. That belongs to Marvel.**

**Alright, I have a few things to say. First is that we're now in the movie events, which means that this story is drawing to a close. There should be about three more chapters left, maybe four, and then I've got to press the completed button. :( **

**But I'd like to run an idea off you guys. I'm considering writing a sequel to the _Thor_ movie. This story was a prequel. So I'm thinking of writing the sequel. If you guys could let me know what you think of this in your reviews, I'd really appreciate it, and if enough people want a sequel, I'll write one. :)**

**Thanks so much for your dedicated reviews-you're all so kind. I dedicate this chapter to all of my reviewers, favers, and alerters! **

_**willshakespeare-immortalbard**_

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><p>He cried.<p>

_Father dead..._—and every bitter, hateful word that Thor had ever spat in his direction had served a sword, piercing until, standing furiously inside the Bifrost, he had stuck the final blow—_"And you are an old man and a fool!"_

The mud caked his clothing, dark and stiff as any blood he had shed. He could feel it clinging to his skin, coating his arms and hands. For a brief instant the fluorescent lighting turned it blue, and he saw Jotun blood, blue and coldly real. It was as if the mud at his knees and elbows was ice, inhibiting him more than the ropes that bound his hands behind his back.

_Father dead..._—and Loki, who didn't look like a child anymore, even though only day had passed since the youth had shone so starkly in his frightened eyes, the horror of loss and pain glittering like the reflection of supernovas in a green, writhing sea—burdened with the heavy throne that he had never wanted.

Thor's vision was blurry, and he could feel himself shaking. The mud was seeping into his shoes, numbing his feet. A tear splashed into the dark muck, and in the brief blossom of clarity, Thor saw everything he had ever loved, bright and illuminated in the rainbow light of that shining bridge to the distant Bifrost.

And then the muddy ground sucked the light under, pulling the last remnants of Thor's life away, dissolving it more permanently than it had ever been before, even when Thor and his father's arguments had broken it apart, like a fragile ornament shaken too hard.

The next tear didn't leave his cheek, and he could feel it there, as sharp as the icy drops that had scratched his skin that day when he had knelt in the snow of Jotunheim, shaking with fear and pain, his hands buried in the white sea, clenching his only hope in his fists, the Jotun's pity following him as the Bifrost wrenched him home.

_Father dead..._—and Thor had seen the lie in his little brother's eyes.


	26. Ready

**A/N—I own nothing. Everything belongs to Marvel.**

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><p>"<em><strong>When Father told you that you were to be crowned, he said that I believed you ready..."<strong>_

The fires snapped like whips at the ash-filled air, their flaming fingers scratching at the melting metal, their vivid fingernails leaving sooty claw marks on the sandy ground. Thor had never walked an empty battlefield before. There were no bodies. There was no blood. No one cried.

Before him, the armored destroyer loomed, its red eyes the burning pit of a volcano. There was no longer any green...

* * *

><p><em>It was the fever that turned his eyes red.<em>

* * *

><p>He walked across the hot sand. The crunching of the hard grains hid the cracking of his heart.<p>

"Brother..."

* * *

><p><em>Little brother—"You had a SON!"—<em>

* * *

><p>"...whatever I have done to wrong you..."<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Father—"—"I don't want to lose my brother..."—<em>_**"I did, I do, and I always will..."**__—_

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><p>"...whatever I have done to lead you to this..."<p>

The destruction shimmered ethereally behind the hazy air, the wavering fires, the tears in his eyes.

"...I am truly sorry..."—_**"It's not to say you won't make mistakes..."—"It's not to say you won't be rather idiotic at times..."**__—_

"But these people are innocent."

And he realized that it was not just Jane and her friends, and the other people of Midgard. It was the Jotuns, who were not all bad, who had been generalized by the cruel actions of a few. And he realized that he had been as wrong then as his little brother was now.

"_**It's not to say you'll be perfect..."**__—_

"Taking their lives will gain you nothing."

Something flickered in the eyes that Thor refused to release. No words were spoken, but Thor felt the accusation: _"My love never gained me anything either. Nothing I gave was ever enough."_

"So take mine and end this."

"_**But you're ready."**_

The eyes never turned green, and the blow sent Thor's mind reeling with rainbow colors.


	27. Asgard Fight

**A/N—I own nothing. _Thor_ belongs to Marvel.**

**I don't particularly like this chapter, but...I'm not very good at writing battle scenes. Sorry...#_#**

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><p>The cold metal of Mjolnir broke the blurry curtain that kept the clarity from his mind. The lightning crackled in his gut, sparking on Mjolnir's shaft, fighting with the thunder in his fingers. Up in the sky, the clouds throbbed and spun, waltzing with the wind, dancing over the shattered town, pulling Thor and the destroyer towards the Bifrost...<p>

Electricity sparked up and down his legs as he landed in the flashing dome. The brilliant lightning stroke branches of the Yggdrasil reached out, welcoming him home with sparkling fingers that stroked his armor, sending shocks through him. The key to the Bifrost still burned in Heimdall's icy hand. Thor tore out of the dome, dashing across the rainbow bridge. It pulsated, multi-colored, like the fancy lights in the bar that Selvig had taken him into. Each beat of his heart was a drum roll, sending the lights flashing across Asgard, running up and down Mjolnir's dark metal.

Jotuns rampaged in the halls—_blue fingers and blue blood, red eyes shining disembodied on the ice-coated walls_—and Thor's heart stopped momentarily as he slipped on the floor, his Mother's scream of seventeen years ago ringing in his ears along with Loki's childish, happy laughter. The Throne room was empty, and he passed it by, heading for his father's quarters, for the fancy bed that he and Loki had once jumped up and down on, simply because their nurse had said they couldn't.

He skidded into the room, bellowing his brother's name.

"Thor!" Mother cried, and Loki's lips mirrored the name silently...

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><p>"<em>Thor! Thor!" His little brother had tripped as he had run down the bridge, eyes alight, screaming with joy and relief...<em>

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><p>He could hear the hatred in his brother's voice. He could also hear the pain. His little brother knew now. His little brother knew why his eyes turned red, and his fingers blue.<p>

And Thor knew why his little brother had lied. Not because he wanted the throne. Not because he wanted Thor to stay away from home.

All Loki had wanted was to lie to Thor the way that Thor had lied to him.

Thor wondered if Loki had cried himself to sleep, that first night he knew. Had Loki slept? Or had he climbed the Yggdrasil, looking down at the starry floor of Asgard? Had he watched his tears fall into that black and white nothingness, just as Thor had watched his float crystalline upon the muddy ground?

There was a flash of light, and Thor went flying backwards—_through the Bifrost—down the sandy road—_breaking through the wall and slamming hard into the bridge beyond. He tumbled, searching for a hold. The slight bump as he entered the dome of the Bifrost shifted him, and he found his feet. Mjolnir scraped along the floor like fingernails on a board.

Loki had followed, swift as lightning, and he struck without qualm, his green eyes bitter.

"Brother, this is madness!" Thor cried above the screaming Bifrost.

"_**I don't want to lose my brother..."**_

"Is it?" Loki spat. "Is it?" The staff shook in his trembling hands, and the words quivered on his tongue, stumbling across the space between them.

Blow after blow...the Yggdrasil burned...the rainbow bridge was vibrating beneath their feet...

"Thor, _please_!" Thor spun, searching. Loki hung from the end of the bridge, his slim fingers clinging to the side.

He bent, reaching for his little brother's hand—

Another blow to the head crippled him. Above him, Loki jeered, multiplied by a score, though he couldn't tell if it was his addled brain or his brother's magic. All looked alike, all laughed cruelly, leaning on the staff—he had to make it go away, and he swung Mjolnir, if only to see one of the scornful faces vanish—

His brother cried out in pain, and the other faces disappeared in a spurt of vibrant light.

Thor staggered to his feet, Mjolnir heavy in his hand.

"_**I don't want to lose my brother..."**_

His heart cracked, over and over.

The hammer he placed on his brother's chest was too heavy to move. It kept his little brother still...it kept him safe...until Loki accepted the love that Thor would never revoke, the hammer was all that he could give.

The Bifrost glowed, and the Yggdrasil began to fracture. Beneath them, the stars exploded.

And Thor made his choice.

Mjolnir slammed into his hand, and he let the heavy weight spur his arm forward onto the rainbow bridge.

He counted the strokes—

_One..._and he could hear Loki screaming behind him...

_Two..._and the bridge spider webbed, like their life had so many years before.

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><p>"<em>You had a SON!"—"I don't want to lose my brother..."—"You hypocrite!"—<em>The years of ruin flashed before his eyes—

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><p><em>Three...<em>and he brought Mjolnir down into the middle of the hateful memories, smashing them into a million pieces, while the wind pulled him out into the dark sky, and the world gave way beneath him...


	28. Supernovas

**A/N—I own nothing! _Thor _belongs to Marvel. **

**This is the last chapter. I'm sorry for the quadruple update, but I really wanted to finish this. (By the way, I listened to the LOST theme-Life and Death-while writing this...so...yeah...)**

**Thank you so much for all your reviews/faves/alerts! This chapter is for all of you wonderful, wonderful people. THANK YOU! **

**Please read/review. **

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><p>Fingers gripped his wrist...<p>

They slid; they couldn't hold on...

They tightened about Mjolnir, and Thor's fall jerked to a stop, his insides rising and falling inside him, bile rushing up to his throat before falling again, leaving him shaking and nauseous. The staff in his hand was heavy, the metal cold and biting against his skin.

Thor looked up at his father. He couldn't breathe. His heart wouldn't beat.

"Father..." he whispered.

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><p>"<em>I love you, Father." <em>

"_I love you too, Fater!" The three-year-old Loki mimicked, reaching little hands up towards the figure at the edge of Thor's bed. _

_His father's armor was cold against his skin, and Thor could almost hear his tears sizzling against the metal._

"_Promise you'll come back?"_

—"_**I promise"—**_

_Loki's green eyes clouded. "Where are you going?" _

_At five, war had been frightening. It had taken Father away. It had made Mother cry. It had been long days of fear, empty nights of weeping, all the while waiting for Father to walk in and make everything okay. _

"_Father has to go," Mother murmured into the little boy's ear. The words brought Thor's tears back, and he burst into sobs. _

_Loki crawled off Mother's lap and sat by Thor. His eyes were filled with tears as he leaned again Thor. _

_The little boy had nothing to say._

* * *

><p>"Father! I could have done it!" Loki cried out. Looking down, Thor saw the child in his green eyes. He was 19 again...frightened and hurt..."For you. For all of us."<p>

They hung there, like a damaged mobile, broken, but still able to work...

Mjolnir bit into Father's hand...

"No, Loki."

The hope in Loki's eyes died...

"Loki," Thor whispered, his heart shaking in his chest...

The memory in each tear was a sad one, a remembrance of sickness and neglect and longing...

Loki's fingers loosened...

"NO!"

His tears turned the supernovas into rainbows.


End file.
